The album sees the singer-songwriter moving in a different direction.
Lil Wayne’s voice makes him (I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again) the Stephen Malkmus of hip-hop.
Furr is country-chic posturing that works from a distance.
The album could use a little more cabaret style and a little less of the anonymous, by-the-numbers R&B and dance formulas.
No moment on the album sounds out of control or wasted.
The fact that the album isn’t a downright mess could be considered something of a small triumph.
Kings of Leon aim for stadium-rock grandeur on Only By the Night, badly missing the mark when it comes to what they actually do well.
Darius Rucker’s Learn to Live makes a concerted effort to sound like a modern country album.
Once again, Broussard’s undeniable talent shines through otherwise undistinguished material and uninspired production.
Red Letter Year finds Ani DiFranco more optimistic and upbeat than she’s ever been before.
Michael Cretu mixes what he calls “the dirtiest Bronx hip-hop beats” with the lush sounds of the London Symphony Orchestra.
Nelly is as consistently entertaining as ever on the cameo-bloated Brass Knuckles.
Year of the Gentleman’s complete lack of irony or humor makes for an ironically surprising listen.
The Quilt is little more than a mainstream pop-rap record that replaces songs about bitches with songs about ex-girlfriends.
“Gun” might be one of the sexiest bloodbaths on record—and the highlight of an album that’s filled with them.
The arrangements of Rattlin’ Bones’s songs speak to a genuine understanding of genre conventions.
By downplaying their gift for memorable hooks and melodies, a band known for an unbridled sense of joy comes across as dour and bored.
You Are All My People never gives the impression that it’s more than just a one-off novelty project.
Mega Breakfast is all relentless, delicious parody.
For the most part the brothers Kadane stick with what’s worked in the past.
Lightbulbs is an album solely for the initiated.